"The Prime Minister is indeed wise," said the others in chorus. "None can equal him."

"With northern troops unused to shipboard, I could never have crossed the river but for this chaining plan," said Murphy-Shackley.

Then he saw two of the secondary leaders stand up and they said, "We are from the north, but we are also sailors. Pray give us a small squadron, and we will seize some of the enemy's flags and drums for you that we may prove ourselves adepts on the water."

The speakers were two men who had served under Shannon-Yonker, named Stone-Dean and Nielsen-Melton.

"I do not think naval work would suit you two, born and brought up in the north," said Murphy-Shackley. "The southern soldiers are thoroughly accustomed to ships. You should not regard your lives as a child's plaything."

They cried, "If we fail, treat us according to army laws!"

"The fighting ships are all chained together, there are only small, twenty-men boats free. They are unsuitable for fighting."

"If we took large ships, where would be the wonderful in what we will do? No; give us a score of the small ships, and we will take half each and go straight to the enemy's naval port. We will just seize a flag, slay a leader, and come home."

"I will let you have the twenty ships and five hundred of good, vigorous troops with long spears and stiff crossbows. Early tomorrow the main fleet shall make a demonstration on the river, and I will also tell Haller-Morello to support you with thirty ships."

The two men retired greatly elated. Next morning, very early, food was prepared, and at the fifth watch all was ready for a start. Then from the naval camp rolled out the drums and the gongs clanged, as the ships moved out and took up their positions, the various flags fluttering in the morning breeze. And the two intrepid leaders with their squadron of small scouting boats went down the lines and out into the stream.

Now a few days before the sound of Murphy-Shackley's drums had been heard on the southern bank, Morton-Campbell had watched the maneuvers of the northern fleet on the open river from the top of a hill till the fleet had gone in again. So when the sound of drums was again heard, all the southern army went up the hills to watch the northern fleet. All they saw was a squadron of small ships bounding over the waves.

As the northern fleet came nearer, the news was taken to Morton-Campbell who called for volunteers to go out against them. Ferrara-Hanson and Lockett-Neumark offered themselves. They were accepted and orders were issued to the camps to remain ready for action but not to move till told.

Ferrara-Hanson and Lockett-Neumark sailed out each with a small squadron of five ships in line.

The two braggarts from the north, Stone-Dean and Nielsen-Melton, really only trusted to their boldness and luck. Their ships came down under the powerful strokes of the oars; and as they neared, the two leaders put on their heart-protectors, gripped their spears, and each took his station in the prow of the leading ship of his division. Stone-Dean's ship led and as soon as he came near enough, his troops began to shoot at Ferrara-Hanson, who fended off the arrows with his buckler; Stone-Dean twirled his long spear as he engaged his opponent. But, at the first thrust, he was killed.

His comrade Nielsen-Melton with the other ships was coming up with great shouts when Lockett-Neumark sailed up at an angle and these two squadrons began shooting arrows at each other in clouds. Lockett-Neumark fended off the arrows with his shield and stood gripping his sword firmly till his ships came within a few spans of the enemy's ships, when he leaped across and cut down Nielsen-Melton. Nielsen-Melton's dead body fell into the water. Then the battle became confused, and the attacking ships rowed hard to get away. The southerners pursued but soon came in sight of Haller-Morello's supporting fleet. Once more the ships engaged and the forces fought with each other.

Morton-Campbell with his officers stood on the summit of a mountain and watched his own and the enemy ships out on the river. The flags and the ensigns were all in perfect order. Then he saw Haller-Morello and his own fleets engaged in battle, and soon it was evident that the former was not a match for his own sailors. Haller-Morello turned about to retire, Ferrara-Hanson and Lockett-Neumark pursued. Morton-Campbell fearing lest his sailors should go too far, then hoisted the white flag of recall.

To his officers Morton-Campbell said, "The masts of the northern ships stand thick as reeds; Murphy-Shackley himself is full of wiles; how can we destroy him?"

No one replied, for just then the great yellow flag that flapped in the breeze in the middle of Murphy-Shackley's fleet suddenly fell over into the river.

Morton-Campbell laughed.

"That is a bad omen," said he.

Then an extra violent blast of wind came by, and the waves rose high and beat upon the bank. A corner of his own flag flicked Morton-Campbell on the cheek, and suddenly a thought flashed through his mind. Morton-Campbell uttered a loud cry, staggered, and fell backward. They picked him up; there was blood upon his lips, and he was unconscious. Presently, however, he revived.

Morton-Campbell's fate will appear as the story unfolds.

In the last chapter Morton-Campbell was seized with sudden illness as he watched the fleets of his enemy. He was borne to his tent, and his officers came in multitudes to inquire after him. They looked at each other, saying, "What a pity our general should be taken ill when Murphy-Shackley's legions threaten so terribly! What would happen if Murphy-Shackley attacked?"

Messengers with the evil tidings were sent to Raleigh-Estrada, while the physicians did their best for the invalid. Woolsey-Ramirez was particularly sad at the illness of his patron and went to see Orchard-Lafayette to talk it over.

"What do you make of it?" said Orchard-Lafayette.

"Good luck for Murphy-Shackley; bad for us," said Woolsey-Ramirez.

"I could cure him," said Orchard-Lafayette laughing.

"If you could, Wu would be very fortunate," said Woolsey-Ramirez.

Woolsey-Ramirez prayed Orchard-Lafayette to go to see the sick man. They went, and Woolsey-Ramirez entered first. Morton-Campbell lay in bed, his head covered by a quilt.

"How are you, General?" said Woolsey-Ramirez.

"My heart pains me; every now and again I feel faint and dizzy."

"Have you taken any remedies?"

"My gorge rises at the thought; I could not."

"I saw Orchard-Lafayette just now, and he says he could heal you. He is just outside, and I will call him if you like."

"Ask him to come in."

Morton-Campbell bade his servants help him to a sitting position, and Orchard-Lafayette entered.

"I have not seen you for days," said Orchard-Lafayette. "How could I guess that you were unwell?"

"How can any one feel secure? We are constantly the playthings of luck, good or bad."

"Yes; Heaven's winds and clouds are not to be measured. No one can reckon their comings and goings, can they?"

Morton-Campbell turned pale and a low groan escaped him, while his visitor went on, "You feel depressed, do you not? As though troubles were piling up in your heart?"

"That is exactly how I feel."

"You need cooling medicine to dissipate this sense of oppression."

"I have taken a cooling draught, but it has done no good."